Golden Skin
by Nielm
Summary: The only man I have ever met, I mused, that smells like apples, is sitting two compartments down and across the hall. He has dark hair and gold-flecked hazel eyes. I could see him—an imaginary reflection in the glass.... LEJP MWPP Era M for later scenes
1. James Potter and I Become Friends

If I ever fell in love with a man, I'd want him to smell like apples.

Not fake, like apple shampoo. Real apples. Real, crisp, cold, icy, golden apples.

I'd want to run my fingers through his hair and pull his head towards me. I'd want to stick my nose into his soft locks and breath deeply.

I am an unassuming girl of seventeen, with pale skin and green eyes. I am medium height and thin. I am quiet.

I stared out the window of the train, resting my forehead against the cool glass. Outside it was raining and windy. My fingers were falling asleep, pressed in between pages of a water-stained book.

I glanced down out of the corner of my eye. I stretched my hands and started picking at a small hole in the knee of my jeans, fraying the edges.

The only man I have ever met, I mused, that smells like apples, is sitting two compartments down and across the hall. He has dark hair and gold-flecked hazel eyes. I could see him—an imaginary reflection in the glass. He's tall, with thin, lithe muscles. He's intelligent. He plays the piano...and Quidditch. His wand is made of dark-stained wood. His skin is smooth, a better shade of pale than mine.

I didn't particularly like James Potter, but only because I didn't particularly know him. He kept to himself mostly. He had a few close friends who were far more outgoing, but still. I'd never really known him that well, and the few times I had spoken to him, he seemed...well, too strange and interesting for me. And a little...stuck up.

I don't like change. It was hard enough accepting the letter I received on my eleventh birthday. What a fine hoax—something dreamt up by my sister Petunia. The fact that a week later a pub called the Leaky Cauldron had appeared before my eyes in Muggle London was proof that I was going insane. Too many years cooped up in a private Catholic school, maybe. But there it was: magic before my wondering eyes.

After that I accepted the truth, but I still wasn't completely convinced. Sure, sure, a secret cult society worshiping magic and the old ways has invited me to attend their best school for educational magical practices. Under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore himself, they had crowed in the pub. The finest wizard walking the earth. Dumbledore has brought an era of peace, and I was going to be one of his pupils.

I puffed air out between my lips and it fogged up the window.

Dad was so proud. You're in your seventh year now, Lily! I'm—

Ecstatic? So am I.

The train rattled and my eyes refocused on the upholstery on the seat across from me. A knock sounded at the door. It slid open. I blinked.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" The woman smiled kindly and swept a hand over the display.

"Yes, please." I stood up. "May I have some sugar quills?"

"One Sickle, please, love." I hand over the coin and took the quills. The woman started sliding down narrow hall as I muttered a small thank you. I looked down out the door and to the left. James Potter was emerging from his compartment, back first. He had a book in his hand. I looked him up and down slowly. He was wearing dark jeans and a black Muggle-style jacket. It fit him nicely. His hair was sticking up in the back of his head, like he had been sleeping on it, and I longed to run my hands through it.

He turned and glanced at me, holding my gaze. He nodded. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small, lopsided smile. I smiled back and began to retreat into my compartment.

"Hey, hold up!" He jogged to me. He put his arm on the frame of the door and leaned slightly. My hand was only a foot under his, and I could feel my fingers twitch. "How was your summer, Lily?"

"It was very pleasant," I replied, telling the truth. I hadn't done much, but I did enjoy being back in the Muggle world... Why was he talking to me? "And you?"

"Fantastic." He looked around me into my compartment. "Are you sitting alone? Would you like to join us?" he asked quietly before I could answer. I noticed a strange glint in his eyes. They were more topaz today, with navy blue rims.

"Uhhh..." My voice faltered and a light blush graced my cheeks. I looked at my book. It was sitting on the seat with the spine cracked. My small leather backpack sat at the foot of the seat, already packed.

"Come on, Lily. Join us. I promise I won't let Sirius bite you." He chuckled freely. His hair bounced. My blush deepened.

"Well all right. Let me just grab my—"

"No worries, I've got it." He brushed past me, grabbing my shoulders as he pushed me over, and then grabbed my bag. He put his book under his arm before picking up mine. He looked at it for a minute. "Good book."

I followed him to his compartment. Sirius Black sat with his feet up on the seat across from him, tossing an unfurled snitch up and down in his palm. He grinned. Remus Lupin had his nose in the _Daily Prophet_, but he looked up as I entered. Peter Pettigrew was in the other corner, doodling in a Potions textbook. I edged in meekly after James. He tossed my bag up in the rack and took a seat, patting the space next to him. I sat obediently.

"Hello, Lily," smiled Remus. I answered back.

"Lily was sitting alone, so I invited her to come sit with us." James looked at my hands, which were clenched around my sugar quills in my lap. "Oh nice, those are my favorite! May I have one?" He reached over, his fingers curling around mine as he peeled one of my hands off the package of quills. I felt the most amazing electric shock go through my fingertips. His hands were strangely warm compared to mine. I felt him flinch slightly. His eyes met mine and I was instantly captured. I felt my mouth drop open a quarter of an inch. "Jesus, Lily, your hands are cold." I snapped out of my trance as he pulled away. I noticed him pout his lips as he looked away from me, as if he were trying not to frown.

"You can have one." I handed him the package of quills, trying not to touch him again. "Remus? Sirius, Peter?" I held out the package. They declined.

"We've got frogs," Sirius said, a cheeky grin still on his face.

"I'll trade you one," I said, trying to barter. "I still have never gotten a Dumbledore. I'm dying for one. My dad really wants to see him."

"Alright, alright." Sirius looked excited as he pulled out a Chocolate Frog box and tossed it across the compartment to me. I passed him a quill, which he stuck in his mouth. He began sucking on it in a very noisy way. I made a face. "Oh, Lily, I know you love it."

"So, Lily? What's the verdict?" James asked. He peered over my shoulder as I began to pull open the box. As soon as it was open he reached over and pulled out the frog, popping it into his mouth before I even had a chance. I frowned at him, but didn't say anything. I pulled out the card.

"Dumbledore. Very sweet."

* * *

I was named Head Girl over the summer, an honor I didn't think I was really worthy of. I hated any kind of attention, so I was somewhat terrified when Dumbledore announced during the feast that I was Head.

I was sitting next to James Potter, still hanging out with him and his friends. I was already fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat—the combination of nerves about the inevitable annunciation, and the fact that most of the Gryffindor table was staring at me with wide eyes. People don't just sit with Sirius Black and his crew, his Marauders.

"I'd like to take a moment to appreciate our new Head Boy and Girl this coming year: Lily Evans." I stood up shakily in my seat, my eyes wide and my hands clenched together in front of me. "And James Potter." I looked at him swiftly. He stood up and glanced at me, a grin lighting his face. "Let's give a round of applause for both and wish them luck!" My face burned until I was able to sit down again.

James leaned over to me. "I didn't know you were Head Girl," he breathed in my ear. His breath was like a beautiful mix of strange spices and that sweet apple sent, better than your mum's apple pie, or apple-tinged Butterbeer, or...or... My eyes fluttered closed briefly. His scent was better than sex.

"I didn't know you were Head Boy," I muttered. He studied my face intently. I had my face only slightly tilted towards him, and I was looking at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked down. My hands were clenched around the edge of the table. He chuckled under his breath. He reached out and took my hand in his, then slid them under the table. He rubbed circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, and my hand instantly relaxed. What was he doing? What was I doing?

He must have seen the expression on my face.

"If this bothers you..." He trailed off. I shook my head. "I just want you to relax. You seem so nervous. You get stage fright?" I nodded mutely, staring at him. "Hmmm, curious. I don't."

"I guess that means you can do all the Head duties that involve being in front of people, then," I joked. He grinned before turning back to his food.

After the feast, Professor McGonagall lead us to our Head dorms. The entrance was a painting of a shy-looking girl in a white dress. She curtsied to us as we approached.

"Good evening, Professor." Her voice sounded like bells.

"Good night, Bella. How are you?" McGonagall smiled at the portrait.

"I'm fine, Minerva. Are these the two new Heads?" She peered at me and James.

"Yes. This is Lily Evans." The professor indicated me with a sweep of her hand. "And James Potter."

"How do you do, miss?" James asked. He smiled a sweet lopsided grin at the girl. She chuckled.

"Charmed. The password is Shepherds' Pie." The portrait swung open, revealing a wood door. McGonagall opened the door and gestured for them to go up the stairs.

"I hope you will find your arrangements satisfactory."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You are quite welcome, Mr. Potter. Goodnight."

The door swung shut, and James and I were left in the dark stairwell. He cleared his throat. "After you, Lily." I head up and emerged into a small common room that looked not unlike the one in Gryffindor Tower. I smiled at the fire burning against one wall. James grabbed my shoulders and pushed me farther in so he could see. "Holy shit. Very nice," he approved. I snickered. "Ooh ooh, my room!" He pranced over to a door with his name on it, pulled it open, and went inside. "Sweeeet," I heard him say. It was muffled through the walls.

I went to my door, hesitating only slightly before pulling it open. Inside was a four poster like my old one in Gryffindor Tower, a desk, and a wardrobe. My things were already put away. I went and flopped down on my bed.

A door opened on the right side of my bed. I turned my head as James emerged.

"Oooh, Lily's room..." He walked over to my desk and ran his fingertips along the books on my bookshelf. "That's the bathroom. It's really nice." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the door.

"I see."

"Can I borrow this?" He held up a book. I squinted my eyes to see what it was. "_Great Expectations_. This is a Muggle book, yes? Charlie Dickinson..." He looked at the cover again. "Oh, Charles Dickens. Sorry." He looked up with a frown on his face. My fingers tingled pleasantly as I watched him. "So, may I?"

"Sure, sure." I sat up.

"Also, I was thinking..." He walked over to my wardrobe and opened it up. James is a nosy bastard, I thought. It made the corners of my mouth twitch up. "Can I give you a nickname? I think we should be friends now." He whirled around to face me, and suddenly his eyes were boring into mine, liquid copper. "I like you." My cheeks heated up under his gaze, but I couldn't avert my eyes. Truth be told, I have to admit I had a disastrous crush on James Potter, and I had since third year, when he was my partner in Potions class one day. He had spilled acid into our cauldron without thinking, and I, thinking on my feet as usual, had saved him from a nasty burn and an impending explosion. He had thrown his head back and laughed. It surprised me—he had always been very shy, yet still arrogant.

"I mean, really, we should be friends." I snapped out of my reverie when I felt him flop down on my bed. He wiggled up until he had his head on the pillow next to me. "Lily flower," he proclaimed. He smiled at me.

I'm not the kind of girl that goes so gooey over a guy, but James Potter sure had me. I was usually very strong-willed, independent, and though I was shy, I had a temper and an outgoing streak in me that I did show every now and again. My dad called me stubborn, but sweet.

"No, I hate that name." I scowled at him. He pouted.

"Tiger Lily? Or...Lilykins. Lils. Lillian?" I shook my head to each.

"I like Lily, plain and simple."

His eyes burned for a second. "Lily isn't a plain name. I think it's nice."

I had it bad. And it seemed like he might have something for me, too.

No, I told myself. James Potter is a bad can of worms, one that should not be opened. If I want to be in love with a Marauder, I should try Peter, or Remus, I reasoned. Remus is intelligent and handsome. We have gotten along very well in the past.

James seems like he could push my buttons in the wrong way.

Or in the best way...

He reached over and brushed my red hair out of my face. Again I felt the shock from his fingertips. My lips parted.

"I guess we can try being friends," I said quietly. Oh yes, please, yes.

"Good." His tone matched mine. He leaned towards me and kiss my cheek softly. The feel of his skin on my cheek was heaven. I inhaled stealthily, trying to memorize his apple scent. He pulled away. "You smell quite good," he said, reading my mind. "Like..." He leaned over and put his nose in my hair. Oh my god. "Hmmmm...the ocean. The breeze off the ocean mixed with sand on a cold day." His arm had slid around my waist to hold me to the bed. He pulled up and away, now looking down at me. His eyes melted again and he cocked his head. "Why haven't I looked at you before? Really looked..." I felt my eyebrows pull down into a frown. "Wow, sorry, Lily. That was a very creepy thing to say.

He pulled away from me and I exhaled the breath I had been holding. He was on his back next to me again.

"No, I understand." I paused, returning my breathing to normal. "I like looking at people, too. I draw them. I love it..."

"Can I see some?"

"Sure, sure, but not tonight, if that's okay." I brushed my hair out of my face with one hand.

"In return I'll show you the song I've been working on," he whispered, as if sharing a secret.

"Sounds lovely."


	2. James Potter Worships Me

**Golden Skin**

* * *

The next morning dawned with an eerily bright sun pouring through my bedroom window. I groaned and rolled over so I was facing the opposite wall.

"Hey there." James was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his hair dripping and his glasses missing. From here I could smell his intoxicating scent.

I moaned and closed my eyes, turning my head away from him. He chuckled and stood over my bed. He shook his hair out over me.

"Nooo..." I wimpered.

"Good morning, Miss Lily." He jumped onto my bed. "It's almost breakfast time." He poked me in the side of my ribs. I winced away, still squeezing my eyes shut. "Well all right, then." He paused. "I guess I will have to dress you and drag you down there myself."

I cracked one eye and watched him bound over my wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of jeans and then a dark green shirt. He held them up.

"Do these match?" I nodded. He tossed them at me, then he opened a drawer and poke a finger around. He withdrew his hand a minute later, holding up a pair of lavender underwear. I blushed. "Lily, Lily, Lily," he tsked at me. He shuffled over, still holding the bra and panties. "Do I need to do this for you? You're such a sleepy little thing..."

"No, James, I've got it." He smiled his lopsided grin. "Get out. I need a minute."

* * *

James and I walked down the corridors of Hogwarts together.

From where I stood at his side, I could feel how close our shoulders were. My fingers ached as I felt them pull magnetically across the five inch gap in between us. The back of his hand brushed mine. He looked down.

"Sorry," he mumbled. I shrugged.

We arrived in the Great Hall a minute later, and I was immediately invited to sit with the Marauders.

I buttered a piece of toast.

I was always too shy at school to make any good friends. I knew most of the student body, and was said hi to in the hallways, but I had never bonded with the girls in Gryffindor Tower. To tell the truth, I usually just kept to myself during the year, and spent time with my Muggle friends over the holidays. I knew a girl down the street—Leigh Morgan—who I had gone to grade school with. I guess she had been my best friend up until I got my letter. At first I was sure she would get hers, too...

Any day now...

Leigh, do you like owls? I had been sneaky about asking. What if she thought I wasn't a witch, too?

Not really. They scare me. There was one that used to live outside my window and he cried at night. I always thought it was a dark fairy, trying to steal me away from my mum and dad.

We giggled. Leigh and I pretended we were the only little girls in all of suburban London who could see the fairies—fairies who came out at night and skulked in the shadows, or blended into your living room wallpaper like chameleons, or hung themselves up in trees like branches covered in tinsel. They were always bigger than us, mischievous, and sometimes evil and dark.

Despite our belief in our fantasy world, Leigh did not receive her letter to Hogwarts, and the next year I had to leave her.

Eventually she forgave me for abandoning her at our old Catholic school, and we spent almost every minute home together.

"What class do you have first, Lily?" Remus asked me. I put down my goblet of pumpkin juice and smiled shyly.

"Arithmancy." The boys groaned. "No, it's okay. I actually like Arithmancy..."

"Brilliant, though. I have Arithmancy, too," James said. He nudged my shoulder with his as he brandished his time table. My smile grew. "Will you sit next to me?"

"Anything for you, James," I replied, mesmerized with how green his eyes were today.

* * *

Later that night James and I sat in our common room with our homework spread all over. Remus and Sirius were sitting at a desk playing wizard chess. Peter was trying to memorize a long incantation for Charms.

"Pssst." I looked up and around. "Lily," James whispered from the chair opposite me across the coffee table. We were sitting in front of the fire. I brushed some hair out of my face. "You said I could see your sketches. May I?"

I hesitated, biting my bottom lip, then nodded. I reached down into my bag and pulled out a black leather-bound sketch book, then passed it to him. He flipped through it, his eyes growing wider with each pass.

"Lily, these are amazing! Where did you learn to draw like that?" He looked up at me. "Will you draw me? Later...after those three leave." He jerked his head at the Marauders. "I owe you that song, too... I've been working on a new one..."

Musicians are sexy, I thought as I returned to my homework. I'd love to be loved by one. They capture your essence and spin it into a melody. Plus, just watching the way their hands move across guitar strings or piano keys...well I couldn't resist. Who could, really?

James Potter really was the perfect man. I noticed myself frowning down at my parchment. Perfection doesn't come much better than that. James Potter isn't a mortal boy, he is a work of art—captured in immortality and beauty forever by the hands of the gods. Merlin knows being able to draw James on _my _paper in _my_ hand, would be rapture.

Ever since I had first laid eyes on James I had wanted to draw him. I _wanted_ to lay him eternally onto my page—into the pages of my sketch book. I'd fold him up and keep him there, tucked away until I could pull him out and look at him, _really_ look at him.

Just like he was looking at me from across our common room. Our eyes caught and held, his strangely unreadable and dark. His lips were pressed together in a hard line, not smiling at me like they usually did. It felt like he was absorbing me pore by pore.

I was melting. Every molecule of heat in my body was rising to the surface and floating off my skin. My fingers twitched in my lap—how I wanted to touch his cheeks, his jaw...

I cleared my throat and dragged my eyes back down to my paper. "I think I need a cigarette," I said quietly. I got up and excused myself, practically running up to my room.

Cigarettes are a bad habit, I reminded myself as I leaned with my elbows on the window-frame in my room. They are a nasty, disgusting habit. Smoking was a very Muggle thing of me to do. I had started two summers ago, when I returned home from boarding school one summer to find Leigh waiting for me at King's Cross Station, a pack in her front pocket, one already in her mouth.

What are you _doing?_ I asked in shock when I saw her. I walked up and snatched the thing out of her mouth. I almost burned my fingers.

Smoking, Lily.

_Killing_ yourself, is more like it. She reached over lithely and took it back, putting it to her rosy lips. It was a cold day, rain getting ready to swirl around us. She pulled the lapel of her leather jacket closer to her chest and smiled at me.

I missed you, Lily.

I missed you, too, Leigh.

* * *

Later James and I were sitting in the common room alone. I had my sketchbook in my lap with my pencil already detailing the obsession I had with the boy in front of me. He tried not to smile as he watched me work.

As some of my hair fell into my face, I was reminded of the last time someone had posed for me. Seven years ago I was sitting at our small kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and a spiral-bound notebook in front of me. I was making Petunia sit still long enough for me to draw her horsey nose and long neck. She had her spindly fingers wrapped around a cup of tea. My father was in the kitchen making himself a bowl of cereal. Mum rested down the street three blocks in the back of the churchyard.

Petunia glared at me, her lips tight and her cheeks as pale as usual.

The memory made me pause.

"Lily?" I looked up at him. He was frowning.

I shook my head. "Nevermind..."

Soon we were in his room, sitting at a piano stool in front of a black upright.

"I asked if I could bring the one I have from home," James explained, gesturing to the beautiful instrument. "I've had it for years. My mum gave it to me as a present..." He smiled endearingly at it, then lifted his fingers.

The sound that poured out from his fingertips surrounded us, fed us, fell deep inside us, pulsed in my very veins...

I instantly knew how very much in love I was with James Potter at that moment.

He caressed the keys, and I imagined him running his hands down my sides. His eyes closed, and I imagined that I was the one causing them to flutter in such a beautiful way. He began humming, his voice rising above the music, and I imagined that I was making him moan...

"James..." my voice croaked. His eyes opened and he peeked down at me.

The song morphed into something quieter, something more compelling. "This is the one I just started working on." He paused as the notes continued to rise from his fingers. "It reminds me of you," he confessed. His eyes were the darkest I had seen them yet. He opened his lips and began to sing. "Wake up...Lily...rise and shine. Pour the tea and draw the blinds... Sunlight...heaven...you look wonderful...darling, Lily...pale and beautiful...for heaven's sake...wake up, Lily..."

He stopped, his hands sliding from the piano. The silence that followed dampened my ears, rushing through my brain and freezing my thoughts.

"That's all I have so far."

"It's lovely..." I let out a breath and smiled up at him. "Thank you, James."

"Anything for you," he said simply. He reached out and pushed some hair behind my ears, then turned back to the keys.

* * *

James came in and flopped on my bed. A month of classes saw us doing our homework together almost every afternoon—we shared multiple classes.

I was lying on my stomach with the tip of my quill in my mouth. My eyebrows were pulled together in concentration. He folded his legs in front of him and pretended to meditate.

"Om...om...ommmmm..."

A month of living with James Potter made me realize how much of a _goof_ the quiet boy was. Most of the time he sat with his face pulled into a serious scowl, his eyes dark behind his glasses. He spent a lot of time in our common room reading, or staring into the fire. Most of what came out of his mouth was smart, with a carefully picked word choice. He was slow and deliberate. And smooth. Very, very smooth...

But as soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth started to pull up in the little grin he must have known I liked.

"Lilyyyy...Lilyyyyyy...Lilyyyyyy..." I jerked my head up from my parchment and looked at him. He paused and opened one eye to peer down at me. "Oh, sorry, are you working?"

I sighed, putting down my quill. "I can't." I squinted at him. "I'm distracted now." How had we become such good friends in such a short time? He was amazing to me, and a mystery, and compelling, and just...

...Utterly James.

He became serious in an instant, dropping his arms and turning into a beautiful, breathing statue. His eyes met mine and started to smolder. He started to lean in towards me. I kept my lips sealed and breathed through my nose.

"And why is that, Lily-billy?" His voice was gentle and it lulled at my senses. How did he _do_ that?

"No idea, James." He was five inches from my face, still intently staring into my eyes, and then—

Then he was tickling me. I gasped and writhed underneath his expert fingers as they roamed my sides. He had his mouth wide open as he laughed. His face was lit with excitement.

"James...bloody...Potter..."

"Rarr!" He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and dove at me, pretending to take a big bite out of my shoulder. He pinned my arms down on either side of my body and flipped himself on top of me. My parchment and books slipped from the bed and onto the floor.

As I got back my breath I realized my smile was wide and thrilled. In all my years of Hogwarts—and all the years before that, too—I had never laughed so much as I had in one week with James. The boy looked down at me with his lopsided grin on his face.

"That wasn't very nice, James," I pouted up at him. He chuckled as he stared down at me. I tried to push him off but he held me there.

"Let me look at you." I rolled my eyes. He did this...every now and then. We'd be sitting and doing homework, and he'd tell me to stop moving so he could look at the way I bit my bottom lip while I concentrated on my essay or Arithmancy problems. I couldn't blame him, because I did the same thing. Except when I did, I'd pull out my sketch book and start drawing him—the curve of his jaw, the straight edge his nose made, the way his hands were splayed on his leg...

We fascinated each other.

"Today," James declared, pulling me out of my own little world inside his eyes, "Lily Evans has pale skin, just like yesterday. Except today her cheeks are rosy because I made her that way." He leaned down and kissed my cheek, then pulled back. He hesitated, then brushed his fingertips along my jaw, up and down. "May I do this?" he asked. He always asked. I nodded. I saw him become deep in thought as he examined me. His fingers trailed down my neck and across my collarbone.

Suddenly James' eyes were on mine again, holding me there. His fingers brushed down from my collarbone and lined the skin just underneath the scooped cut of my sweater.

"You're very beautiful, Lily," James said.

"So are you," I whispered. The edges of his mouth pulled up.

"If I were braver..." He leaned in towards me again and lowered his voice. "If I dared...I'd kiss you."

"Only if I dared you," I teased. James nodded, still smiling. "Alright, then, James. I dare you." His eyes flickered down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. "I dare you to kiss me."

"Only if you say please," he retorted quietly. This was our friendship—our relationship. We were each other's muse, and we existed by taking and giving until we rested in unison.

"...Please."

James leaned farther down. I stopped breathing and I could tell he had, too. His lips brushed so close to mine that we almost touched, leaving my lips tingling. He pulled back an inch and let a breath escape his mouth. His eyes searched mine.

"I want to kiss you again."

I lifted my head this time, and pressed my lips to his firmly.

Then I let my head fall back. He blinked, the corner of his mouth pulling up. "Again," he said. He gave himself to me again, his lips caressing mine in the most amazing, James Potter, apple-pie, better-than-sex way.

He kissed me relentlessly, still pressing me into the bed with one arm, trying to keep himself supported. His other hand stroked my neck and cheek as his lips worshiped mine.

Quite suddenly he gave up on holding himself above me and had his whole body pressed against mine. An electric current ran up and down my body, heat growing in the pit of my stomach. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He breathed into me, releasing the delicious scent that I craved to fill my every waking second with. I was intoxicated by him.

James moaned quietly, sending vibrations through my lips and down my spine. He pulled away again and rested his head in the crook of my neck, leaving me breathing heavily underneath him. "Lily...oh, Lily. What am I going to do with you?" he mumbled against my skin.

"Hmmmm?"

"You are the most amazing thing I have ever tasted." He pulled back and looked at me. His eyes were burning, dark, almost black and navy blue. "I think I could kiss you all day." He cocked his head. "I _want_ to," he smoldered.

"I wouldn't complain."

"Lily..." He gave me a quick kiss. "Are you my best friend?"

"Probably besides Sirius, yes," I answered, grinning.

"Good," he said, and then he began kissing me again.


	3. James Potter Has Cold Eyes

**Golden Skin**

* * *

"Fuck."

Blood dripped down the side of my hand and up my arm.

"Fuck."

I looked up at myself in the mirror. My wet hair was sticking to my forehead and the side of my cheek. It looked ratted. My skin felt clammy. I was holding up my towel with one hand. The bathroom was filled with humidity.

I put down my razor carefully. In all the times I had shaved my legs—years, really—I had never cut my leg. In all the times I had shaved my legs, I had cut my hand afterwards three times. Four now.

I pulled open a drawer and dug through it for Band-Aids. I couldn't find any.

"Duh, magic. It exists for a reason." I looked around the counter blankly. "Where is my wand?"

"Lily?" Someone knocked on the door—someone named James Potter. I scrambled around, looking more hurriedly for my wand. He didn't wait. "Lily, are you okay?" he asked desperately as he opened the door and walked through. He stopped short, his eyes going wide. "Uhm..."

"I'm fine. I just cut myself." I held my towel tighter to myself. "Can I borrow your wand?"

"Oh, of course!" He hurried over, pulling out his wand. "Allow me." He held my hand. The familiar—though still unexpected—electric shock that travelled up my arm made my heart race. He muttered a healing spell and then turned my hand over and back, inspecting his work. "There." He pulled my hand up and gave it a kiss.

"Thanks, James."

"You're welcome." We stayed like that for a minute, his eyes on mine. "Today..." I rolled my eyes at him. "Today Lily Evans has pale skin, as usual." I made a coughing noise in the back of my throat. He grinned. "But today," he continued, "it is dripping and dewey, like the outside of a leaf after it rains." He ran his hand up my bare arm. "Today her skin is warm, and she smells more like the ocean after a tropical storm."

"Today," I answered, "James Potter's eyes look like green ferns—dark, forest green, but with streaks of light. The edges are tinted brown, and they make me imagine I am wandering through a meadow in the middle of the forest, surrounded by waving, green stems." I smiled shyly up at him. "Today his lips look like bruised strawberries." He snorted. My smile grew. "Today he has to let me go get dressed and ready for class."

He leaned down and kissed me, his lips capturing mine in the most amazingly gentle way. I thrilled to it.

"You are my muse," he said simply when he had released me.

"So are you. I'm painting this afternoon, by the lake. Would you care to join me?"

"Of course."

* * *

James and I half ran, half fell down the sloping grass hills to the lake. He overtook me in the last few feet and flopped on his back. He sucked in a large breath, inhaling the scent of heated grass and water.

I sat next to him, pulling out my paints.

"It's going to get cold soon," James remarked as I set up my painting board. I looked down at him.

"I like the cold." He opened his eyes and smiled at me.

"You would, Lily." He reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me down on top of him. I made a face. "What? Can't I hug my favorite person?" I laughed at him. I put my head down in the crook of his neck and his smell filled my existence. I felt his lips nibble at my neck. His hand pushed aside my sweater and his lips moved to the top of my shoulder. A shiver went down my spine when his teeth caught my skin gently. "What are you going to paint?" he murmured.

"Hmmmm..." I pulled away and looked down at him. "I was thinking of painting you. You can lie there and pretend to sleep in the grass while I work."

"I want to watch you."

"Then sleep with your eyes open." I tried to get up, but he held me against him. "What?"

"I haven't looked at you enough today, Lily. I like looking at you. You fascinate me, you know."

"I know."

"Then let me." He rolled us over so he was on top. "Trust me." His eyes captured mine, and I couldn't look away. I was obviously under James Potter's spell, "just best friends" or not. He ran his hand under the neck of my sweater again, this time pushing it all the way off my shoulder. He felt my skin, memorizing every inch as he went. He pulled my sweater off the other shoulder, then pulled it down my arms. "May I?"

"Yes..." Oh James Potter...

He seemed to change his mind, and pulled my sweater over my head instead. My bare skin met the air with a shock. I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Eek! So...cold..."

"Oh no, Lily! I didn't know you weren't wearing a shirt underneath your sweater." James hurriedly covered my arms and bare stomach with my discarded sweater. He held me close to him, cradling me to his chest.

"It's okay, James."

"Are you sure?" I lifted my head and pressed my lips to his in reply. He met me eagerly and pushed me back into the grass. The back of his hand stroked the very top of my breast, leaving goosebumps. His fingertips ran a line against the edge of my bra. My eyes fluttered closed. "Lily," he murmured against my lips.

"James," I sighed.

This was heaven of the sweetest kind. I was sure taking advantage of my friend, my James, like this was a sin, but who was I to deny myself something I'd only dreamt of? The thought of kissing James Potter's lips had only consumed my non-waking hours for the past three years of my life. To be underneath him, his hands touching where only I had touched before—it was driving me insane.

"Torture..." I whispered as his lip kissed my exposed skin. "I love it." I didn't think he could hear my words until his lips captured mine again.

When he pulled away his eyes were deep and icy. I dove into them, losing myself completely. I was falling through a tunnel. My feet hit the ground, and it was powdered with light snow. I was on a dirt road. Trees lined each side of the street, and beyond them stretched snowy meadows that ran until the forest exploded in a restrained kind of wilderness. I could feel eyes watching me from the deep green around me.

I looked down. I held my hands up to catch the snow that was lightly falling around me. It nestled in my hair and on my eyelashes. I realized that I was smiling widely, my cheeks pink, and my fingers and toes were tingling and going numb.

"Lily..."

I looked around, trying to find his voice. Where are you, James?

"Lily..."

It sounded like he was laughing.

Then he was kissing me again, pulling me out of his eyes.

"Lily," James said, a smile on his face. I realized I was gasping for breath.

"Woah," I breathed.

"Hahahah. What happened to you?" His hands were holding my cheeks.

"I got lost." He frowned a little, but his eyes were still bright. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Enchant me."

He smirked and winked at me. "I guess I am just an amazing kisser."

"Yes, you are a fantastic lover," I confided. I blushed.

"Is that what we are?" he asked quietly. My blush deepened. "I take that as a yes. Well I'm glad that I get to love such a beautiful creature as you, Lily." He took my hand and put it through the hole of my sweater, an obvious hint. "Now paint. I know you are dying to..."

* * *

I crossed my legs and laid my spiral-bound notebook in my lap, pulling the cap off my ballpoint pen.

Dear Leigh...

I paused, in thought.

Do you remember the night I told you about my dream boy—the one who walked out of my deepest memories and into my classroom? He smelled like golden apples, and his messy black hair was instantly endearing. I remember not being able to even look at him, without blushing furiously. Lily is shy and awkward, you had said. I can't believe how tipsy we were the night I told you about him. God, I miss you.

I had to edit out Merlin, for her benefit.

Can you imagine that he is my best friend here? More than that, he is my subject and my inspiration. Every day I draw him, and every night he plays his music for me.

I smiled quietly to myself. James was up in his room reading _Quidditch Quarterly_.

And sometimes when we really lose ourselves, we pretend we love each other, and we kiss and hold each other.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was full of excited chatter. Sirius and James started a debate over Quidditch. Remus was studying, but kept interjecting comments that would spur the argument on. Peter and I discussed ministry politics, because his mother worked in international relations.

"Well, you see," squeaked Peter, "the Department of International Magical Cooperation is only in charge of making sure a wizarding war doesn't break out, like what happened with Grindelwald years ago. The murders that are going on are only located in the United Kingdom. Technically, the Department doesn't have to involve any outside countries to solve it's own problems. Our ministry can't just go running to the French or even American ministries; how would we look if we were too weak to catch our own criminals?"

"True, true," I conceded. "I guess I didn't think of that side of the situation. Do you think this guy is that much of a problem yet? Why haven't we caught him?" I pointed at _the Daily Prophet_ in my hand. The words 'Dark Lord, Dark Times' were splayed across the front in bold ink.

"I think that the public lacks the right information about how much support Voldemort—" his voice broke on the name—"is getting. He has a lot more followers than they're letting on."

"I guess I wasn't aware. I don't get the news at home—my dad doesn't like having owls around our house."

"How powerful Voldemort is getting won't be written about in _the Prophet_, Lily." Peter frowned at me. Remus looked over at us. "They want to keep it as quiet as possible. The only thing they've been reporting on is the attacks, and even then, the numbers are a lot greater than they are telling us."

"How do you know so much about this Peter?" Remus inquired.

"My mum at the ministry. I listen in when she and Dad talk about it sometimes. We also have a lot of ministry visitors at our house."

"Oh, yes, I forgot about her position. Her office is next door to my mum's, right?" Peter nodded.

The post flew in then, causing a ruckus in the Great Hall. A brown owl tossed a letter down to me. I turned it over. Leigh. Sweet. James looked over interestedly. He had also received a small package.

Dear Lily,

How do your letters always arrive so quickly?

I snickered to myself. A school owl at night, was my answer, but she wouldn't know that. I still put stamps on the envelopes for her. I shook my head with a small smile tugging at my lips.

I can't imagine, Lily. You have your ways, though, sneaky girl.

So, please tell me about this guy. I do remember that night—what fun! Let's go back again some time and get really smashed. I have some friends that could take us. Anywho, he sounds pretty romantic. You are going to bring him home for Christmas break so I can meet him, right? That's not really a question. You are going to.

I am worried that he's nothing more than your "lover." Well, I suppose you did say he's your best friend. I'm still concerned, though. You haven't really had much experience in this situation, so don't get in over your head, love.

We should talk by telephone soon, if you can. I know you mentioned that usually the phone lines are down, so far out into the country like that. If you can manage to pop into town, I'd love to hear from you!

Yours,

Leigh

"Who is that from, Lily?" James asked me. I looked up at him with a big smile.

"My best friend!" I replied. The corners of his mouth started to pull down.

"...Oh."

* * *

"James, what's wrong?" I nudged him with my shoulder before slipping my hand into his, twining my fingers with his.

"Nothing, Lily, love," he said quietly.

"Don't feed me that bullshit." His eyes widened as he looked down at me. "Sorry," I muttered.

"Lily doesn't swear," he joked, a smirk on his face.

"Sometimes I do..." He raised his eyebrows. "Bugger." They went higher. "Pussy."

"Right, right."

"So what is eating you?"

"I just don't want to go to Potions," he whined. "And my backpack is heavy." He sighed. "And I am sore from Quidditch." He frowned. "And I missed you during all our classes apart." He looked down at me. "And I thought I was your best friend—"

"You are! James, is that's what's wrong?" He shrugged and looked away. I squeezed his hand firmly. "James, you are my best friend. My best _girl_ friend," I clarified, "is a Muggle girl named Leigh, who I grew up with. You would really like her. But that is aside the point." I paused in the corridor, pulling him to a stop. "James, I can have more than one best friend. What if I demanded that you shun Sirius, Remus, and Peter? It's either me or them, and that's that."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that at all!" He ran his hand through is hair.

"I know. I'm just saying." I looked up and down the hall, then stood on my tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss when I was sure we were alone. "And, James, you are a little bit more than my best friend. Come on, we'll be late."


	4. James Potter and the Marauders

**Golden Skin**

* * *

_I apologize for the lack of activity in the past few weeks and for the short length of this chapter. The next is on its way, so no worries!_

_

* * *

  
_

Weeks passed slowly and languidly.

It was on a normal night of a normal day of classes, when I woke from a fitful sleep with cold sweat on my brow.

I sat up, my hands gripping my sheets and my arms shaking. I was still dressed and on top of my covers. My homework was spread around the the bed in front of me.

I shook my head, then pushed some strands of hair out of my eyes.

I tried to breath....

"Lily?" I heard James call softly from his room. Had I made a noise?

I got up and padded through our bathroom to his room. I peeked my head around his door and squinted in the dark.

"I'm here," I answered.

"Lily," he breathed, relieved. I saw him sit up and hold his arms out wide. I scurried over and got under the covers with him, letting him wrap his arms around me. "Are you alright? I heard you talking in your sleep."

"I think I was having a nightmare, but I don't remember any of it." He put his hand on my forehead.

"You're burning up, Lily. Oh. Come on, let's get you out of these clothes." He pulled back the covers and I started shivering. He quickly unzipped my jeans and pulled them off my legs, throwing them to the floor. Then he pulled my off my sweater and got out of bed. I lay there in my underwear, hugging my arms to my chest. I felt my eyes going wider as I fell into a sort of shock. James returned to the bed holding one of his tshirts. "Put this on, love." I did as I was told.

James got back in bed and pulled the covers over us both. He pulled me close against his chest and stroked my hair as I fell back to sleep, this time with no dreams at all.

* * *

I joined the boys the next morning in the Great Hall. They looked up at my approach and put on wide smiles.

"Lily!" Sirius exclaimed as I sat next to James. "We have a proposition for you."

"Uhm...." I said, suspicion coloring my tone.

"We've decided to make you an honorary Marauder," Remus continued.

"And that means there are some things you should know about being a Marauder," Sirius finished. "We have deemed it necessary to inform you about some of the trademark Marauder secrets, since you are such good friends with James, and, through association, us." His eyebrows were raised as he looked across the table at me.

"Do you trust us, Lily?" James asked quietly. He was more serious than the others. I nodded.

"Of course I do."

"Brilliant! Then we will pick you up at eight o'clock tonight for some Marauder-style fun," Sirius confided. I smiled shyly.

* * *

I sat in the Head common room with my jacket and a scarf on, tapping my foot. My sketch book sat on the low coffee table—it made my fingers itch. I needed a new one soon, because James' face filled almost every page now.

Soon I heard the boys spilling through the portrait hole. They filed into the room with their hair mussed and their faces flushed.

"Lily!" James exclaimed. He skipped over to the couch and pulled me up and into his arms. I snaked mine around his waist and stood on my tiptoes so I could rest my chin on his shoulder.

"Hello, James," I laughed. "Hi, Remus, Sirius, Peter."

"Hi, Lily dearest," said Sirius.

As I began to pull away I felt James sneak a kiss against my neck. A light blush graced my cheeks, and I ran a hand through my hair.

"Shall we?" Remus offered. I nodded and we filed out the portrait hole and began walking down the corridor. I hung back to walk next to James.

"Hey, Lily," he whispered. He winked down at me.

"Hi yourself, James," I answered. He stepped closer to me as we walked, so that every now and again his arm would brush mine gently. It gave me goosebumps and I could feel my hair stand on end.

We were lead out onto the grounds to the Womping Willow. The four boys stopped and looked at me.

"Lily," Sirius began, "as you know, we are quite mischievous, us four. After all, we are the Marauders." I snickered. "But there is more to us than meets the eye. Wormtail?"

Peter stepped forward and held his arms out.

"Don't be frightened, Lily." James grabbed my hand in his.

I watched as Peter sank to the ground, his body shifting and shrinking. I blinked, and there was a fat rat on the ground looking up at me. I gasped.

"We're all animagi, Lily," Sirius explained. I looked at James. "Even Jamsie. Prongs?" James let go of my hand and transformed into a great stag.

The amazement I felt at Peter's transformation was nothing compared to my reaction to James. He lifted his nose and pressed it into the palm of my hand. The deer still had James' eyes. I stared into them as I gently stroked the stag's head and neck with my fingertips. He stepped closer to me and pressed his whole body into my side. I slid my arms around his neck easily.

I looked at the last two Marauders. Sirius was sitting on the ground wagging a busy black tail. Remus stood fidgeting.

"What can you turn into, Remus?"

"Well I...." He paused and cocked his head at me. "I am not an animagus, Lily, but I am a werewolf." I smiled. "That doesn't....bother you?"

"You aren't a monster, Remus."

"No, he's not," James said. I looked over. He had become a man again in my arms. He slid his around my waist.

"I suppose my condition is just unfortunate, really," Remus said. I nodded and leaned into James.

"Lily," he whispered as the other two boys became Marauders again. "We want you to be with us. I want you. What do you say?"

"You mean....become an animagus?"

"Yeah...." Sirius came over and flung an arm around my shoulder. Remus and Peter joined the circle. Smiles adorned all the boys' faces.

I looked in James' eyes and saw all the affection in the world. I saw his need for me. I saw his hunger for my skin. I could see how much he wanted to take me and press his lips to my collarbone, my shoulder, my breast, my thigh, my lips over and over. Deeper into the dark green his eyes were I could see his love for me. He loved me.

"All right."

* * *

James and I were lying under his covers later that night. I was dressed in my flannel pajamas, he in his pajama pants with no shirt. I was curled into his side and he had his arm around me.

"James?" I whispered. He tilted his head so he could look at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Lily," he whispered back. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his other arm around me, cradling me against his chest. He captured my lips with his and caressed them gently. His lips were so soft and warm. They were inviting. I parted mine and felt his tongue against my bottom lip. The way he kissed me was more than just two friends snogging. I could tell now, after weeks of us exploring each other's mouths and touching each other's skin. I didn't say anything. If he didn't know it himself, I didn't want to tell him. James is my best friend.

At that moment his lips left my mouth and continued down to my shoulder. He loved kissing my shoulder. His thumbs brushed against my back as he put his hands underneath my pajamas. I let my fingertips graze his chest. He was so _warm._

He slipped my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor, then his hands were on my back again, pressing gently against my shoulder blades. He kissed me more earnestly. I ran my hands down his sides and he mirrored the action, resting his hands on my hips as I did on his. When I slipped his pajamas down an inch, he slipped mine down, too.

We pulled back from our kiss and looked at each other.

"James."

"Lily."

I hesitated for a moment, then rubbed my thumb against his bare hip. "You are my best friend. I want to share everything with you."

"I would give anything to be with you," he said simply. I kissed him quickly and then pulled away again, so I could watch while I slipped his pants down farther, pulling them down his legs as far as I could reach. Then I ran my hands back up, barely touching his thighs and the front of his boxers. I rested my hands on his hips again. I smiled.

He slid my flannels off my hip and down to my knees. He fingered the edges of my underwear lightly. "Your skin is so soft."

"James—" I was curious. "Have you done this before?"

He shook his head, smiling widely. "Contrary to popular belief—no."

"Me neither."

"I guess this will be an adventure, then," he said before his lips descended upon mine hungrily. I gave every inch of feeling I had into kissing him back—frustration, anger, sadness, happiness. As we kissed he pushed down my panties, then gently put his hand in between my thighs. He let his fingers stroke my skin. I shivered.

He rolled us over and pressed his body to mine. He lifted one of my thighs so that my leg was partially around his waist. He stroked my cheek and hair.

"Oh Lily...."

* * *

Uhg.

When I woke the next morning, sun was streaming in through the window in James' room. I blinked to clear my eyes and tilted my head away, looking for his messy hair.

Ahh.

There he was. He was lying on his stomach, his mouth open. His arm was holding me tightly against him. I shifted so that I was facing him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Mmmm Lily?" he grumbled.

"It's me. I'm here."


End file.
